The Last Supper

The Last Supper

Where i spit truth, made of fire.....

You see tha powerful got nervous, Cause he refused to be their servant; 'Cause he spit truth, That shook heads and burned like black churches; Prose and verses, A million poor in hearses; Watch tha decision of Dred Scott as it reserves ; So long as tha rope is tight around Mumia's neck ; Let there be no rich white life , we bound to respect ; Cause and effect; Can't ya smell tha smoke in tha breeze??? My panther my brother we are at war until you're free!!!

Nuffnang

Thursday, September 6, 2007

poem

This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital.

SLOW DANCE

Have you ever watched kids

On a merry-go-round?

Or listened to the rain

Slapping on the ground

Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?

Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down.

Don't dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won't last.

Do you run through each day

On the fly?

When you ask How are you?>

Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done!

Do you lie in your bed

With the next hundred chores

Running through your head?

You'd better slow down

Don't dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won't last.

Ever told your child,

We'll do it tomorrow?

And in your haste,

Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,

Let a good friendship die

Cause you never had time

To call and say,"Hi"

You'd better slow down.

Don't dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere

You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,

It is like an unopened gift....

Thrown away.

Life is not a race.

Do take it slower

Hear the music

Before the song is over.